Shabbat Jupiter Direct in Cancer Shalom & Community Reading

 

Even though it was two weeks ago already, we're still a bit under the full moon eclipse energy, still releasing those thoughts/energies/relationships/behaviors that we need to be done with, finding our endings, and bringing those cycles to a close.

Luckily, Jupiter went direct in Cancer earlier this week to help us move from having been focused more closely on the microcosm of our own home and family life - where our security and comfort live, our personal well being, motherhood and maternal wounds - towards more bigger picture thinking featuring themes like moving, re-entering the workforce, shifts in our home and family life, including how we feel at home within ourselves.  we're looking for more positive changes that expand upon what's been good for us, and finding the silver linings within our personal clouds.

while this may feel like a huge relief, we're encouraged to release our pent up mental anxiety with trusted friends and family members in order to help us process what's been going on for us during this past winter season.  we're also still in the midst of the Mercury retrograde cycle which will be ending on or around March 20th, when the Sun moves from the sign of Pisces into Aries.  

as we're generally encouraged to refrain from 'texting the ex' during Mercury retrograde due to the high potential for miscommunication, I am embarrassed to admit that I reached out to several people I previously severed ties with to ask if they were interested in reconnecting!  I quickly realized what I had done and laughed about it (I'm usually the one deflecting the attempts of others who reach out to me during retrogrades) and just made sure to watch the responses and not get too involved straight out of the gate.  a few people responded quickly and positively - though one of those I've already seen as an issue and most likely will not follow up with them - and several have not yet responded or have chosen not to (I have no way of knowing whether or not they've even seen my messages), and I'm happy to leave it at that.

it's been an interesting few weeks for sure, so I'm just going to jump right into the cards...I'll be using the Tarot of a Moon Garden deck because it's brightly colored and whimsical, and I'm hoping it will add some lightness and joy to the mostly grey and overcast day outside my windows.

1)  if you went against conventional wisdom this week like I did and reached out to old friends in an attempt to rekindle those connections, was it a good idea?

 

 

Ace of Staffs:  staffs are the element of fire, and as such, this card is associated with Aries, the sign our Sun is heading to next in about a week!  and this ace is all about creative beginnings, fiery inspiration, finding your voice and vision.  it says "Go For It!"  if you're feeling excited about possibilities, then take a chance and follow your instincts (like I did).  start small and if it feels good, keep doing it. ideas are flowing, offering opportunities to grow on a personal and/or spiritual level - but this is also just a spark, and it's up to you to fan the flames of creation (or take that first step towards reconciliation).

2)  in what areas of our lives will we see the most forward motion this week?

 

 

The Magician:  corresponding to Mercury, this card is about converting spiritual energy into real life action - that "as above, so below" we talked about in last week's post, where the macrocosm represents the Universe as a living being, with the microcosm understanding humans as their own Universe, with The Magician as the lightening rod channeling energy between the two.  this says "embrace your creativity tempered with self control, recognize your ingenuity and mastery!"  everything you need to create the life you want is in your hands - move forward, take action, you are ready!  focus and concentrate, then commit.  be methodical in order to stay on track and carry out your tasks...creating your inner world will cause your outer world to follow.  so make those careful plans and act on them!

3)  so what's the silver lining for the collective? 

 

 

Ten of Pentacles:  another card connected to Mercury, go figure.  this one is about wealth, safety, family, home...the "it all works out in the end" card.  while the road towards building our legacy may have been hard, finding ourselves here is all that much sweeter for it.  the investments we made in and for our families pay off in the joy of watching our legacy grow in abundance.  making the decisions we've needed to, and the hard work we put in to attain our goals will all come together and make us proud, and profoundly grateful.  to have built a lasting foundation for the future success of our family is at the core of our happiness, and it is our privilege to share share share!  remember to give thanks and appreciate our strong connections to our heritage/lineage, and traditions!

wishing you a peaceful week, and hoping this reading resonates for you.  feel free to contact me for a more personalized reading at Mysteriam Tarot & Dreamwork on Facebook.

 

Making Aliyah

I feel incredibly blessed to have made Aliyah on my Zayde's and my 'shared' birthdays - my flight from the States was the day after my birthday, and I landed in Israel on my Zayde's birthday.  there are so many signs pointing to this being the right thing for me to be doing, even though it's been HARD.  harder than I thought?  I can't say...I don't know if I thought about how hard it may or not have been before I left, just that going was the right thing for me to do.  and even though it's been HARD, I'm still so grateful to be here in Israel, and have no intentions of doing anything but staying, and figuring out how to make it work the way I usually do, and looking back at these HARD times from a place of gratitude and plenty.

 

 

Having booked an Airbnb for a full month, thinking I would find a job and an apartment quickly, I spent most of that time running around between ministry offices, the bank, the Hebrew school, the bus station, the health service, and various mini-markets and grocery stores.  there was a minute when I thought I had found a place, on my last day in the Airbnb, but after stringing me along for a week while adding more and more conditions to my renting the place, the landlady finally refused me.  first she wanted a co-signer, then a co-signer in Israel, then a bank guarantee, then bank records from all my bank accounts both here and in the States...it just got to be too much, and at that point, I was a week past my check out date, so had to give my hostess whatever money I had, and leave.  if I had a job, the mean landlady might have rented to me, but so far, no luck there.  I may find that to be the case with all the landlords here, but I still have to try, right?

 

 

I am proud of myself for managing to figure out the buses (in this city, anyway!), which may not seem like a big thing, but I've been living in mostly rural areas for decades, which pretty much requires a car to get around.  I sold the car about a week or so before I left, and it was tough getting where I needed to go for that time, even with my son helping me out with rides, and lending me his car when he could.  the car was also sentimental to me, as it was my mother's car that she gave to us right around the time kid became a teenager, and the one he learned to drive in.  I also lived in it for about 5 months when we first moved to Vermont, and I was having trouble finding an apartment due to the insanity of the housing crisis happening there.  I think it's fair to say the car saved my life in that particular instance, as the late Summer turned to Autumn, and I still didn't have a place by the time the snow began to fly, and the temperatures plummeted.  but that's a different story, and you can read about it in another post.

the state-sponsored Hebrew school is no joke, with classes running 5 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 5 months, and I was up for it.  I'm good at school, and even though I could only write in print like a kindergarten kid and started a week behind the rest of the class, I caught right up no problem.  I mean, my script still looks like a child's handwriting, but that will obviously improve with practice.  the issue I had there was this one highly disruptive dude in my class who was making me nuts - I know, I know, I'm an adult and should be passed such judgements or letting a thing like that bother me, but he was just so...predatory that it was making me angry that no one seemed to care, and even indulged his behaviors.  so after I made several complaints about him, I just decided to switch classes.  the new class only meets two days a week, and three days a week every other week.  at first I was bothered by that, thinking I wasn't learning fast enough going full-time, but it's also better because now I have more time for the other things I need to be doing, too.  there's a part of me that tells me I should and can be doing more, and there's another part of me that's saying what I'm doing is A Lot, and it's ok to slow down and take it in smaller chunks.  it all leads to the same place eventually.

 

 

the health service has proven to be a real challenge for me, and it took several visits to not really get anything that I needed done there.  well, that's not entirely true - my cousin did help me set up a follow-up appointment with the doctor after I couldn't make it to the one I had, and failed to navigate the phone menu in order to reschedule it, as well as scheduled an appointment with the dental hygienist after I had made one with the dentist who wasn't who I needed to see (things work a bit differently here).  the doctor's recommendations in response to the results of my bloodwork (and other tests) were somewhat disturbing, with the doctor not only insisting I double my dose of diabetes medication, but that I begin to take insulin as well, along with ordering an ultrasound of my liver and kidneys, a retinopathy, seeing an endocrinologist, a dietician, and throwing in a mammogram to boot.  it was all too much for me, so I did none of that...well, I did double the dose of the diabetes meds I already have, just because it seemed easy enough, though it has been rough on my stomach, which is already having a hard time adjusting to the poor diet I've had since arriving.  then the dental hygienist wouldn't clean my teeth because I'm diabetic, and she needed a note from the doctor, so I walked out of there, too.  maybe I'll get back to it when I'm better adjusted, but I'm struggling to get by at the moment, so I can't handle the additional stress right now.

my diet has been terrible since I've been here, and at this point, I'm subsisting mainly on cottage cheese, hummus, and crackers, with an occasional slice of pizza or falafel thrown in when I can afford it.  the kitchen at the Airbnb was outside, which isn't the worst thing in the world, even when it's windy, rainy, and cold, which it has been often enough to make it problematic for me.  it was also shared with the other guests in the house, so I couldn't always cook when I had the time to, and I didn't necessarily want to eat outdoors, either, especially when the weather was bad.  I wasn't able to plan meals that well until I found a decent grocery store, and even then, by the time I had figured out a routine for myself, my time there was up.  sad to say, I've ended up at McDonald's twice so far just for the simple pleasure of eating indoors on a cold, rainy day.  most of the pizza and falafel places have outdoor seating here, and even the slightly more upscale Italian place my cousin took me to did as well, though it was enclosed with glass so at least the customers were somewhat protected from the elements.  when I left the Airbnb for lack of funds, I ended up at the 'guest house' I'm currently writing from (for one more night) that only has a shared microwave and electric hot plate, both of which gave me large shocks when I touched them, so now I'm afraid of them both.  and the hot plate seems to come and go, as in sometimes it's there, and sometimes it's not, so even if I were brave enough to try and touch it again, I can't count on it being there when and if I want it, anyway.  but in doing my best to adjust to my surrounding, I tried to buy some microwave meals and didn't find any, though I did buy some frozen 'nuggets' - which turned out not to be chicken, but whatever 'plant based' ingredients they were composed of, and who cares, I ate them anyway - and some microwave popcorn.  ridiculous.  

 

if I could read Hebrew better, it would probably have been obvious that these weren't made with actual chicken, though when you're hungry, it hardly matters.

 

on top of that, I'm incredibly dehydrated, and my skin looks like crap.  I know it seems like self-centered whining, especially when there are currently still hostages being held, tortured, and starved by the enemies of my people, and it is.  but how am I helping them by not taking care of myself?  we 'can't pour from an empty cup', and when I feel like crap I'm no good to anyone including me.  four days ago, when I left the Airbnb, I called a bunch of contacts and organizations to tell them I only had enough money to book myself into the cheapest place I could find, and they offered to help me out by paying for a few more days, which means I'm out of here tomorrow morning.  I have no idea where I'm going yet, but I did meet with some social service type people, and when they asked me what I did for work in the US, I told them I did their jobs - working with homeless people, and the various issues that usually accompany that condition.  we'll see how far it gets me in terms of securing a paying job, and a paying job will definitely help with renting an apartment.  and an apartment would give me the ability to radically increase my water intake, and cook myself some healthy and hearty meals, which would in turn help to regulate my digestive issues.  one step at a time.

while I've been here at the 'guest house', I did manage to do the laundry that had piled up at the Airbnb, so at least the clothes in my suitcases are clean and neatly repacked, and I also got a (cold) shower this morning, which helped fix my head a bit.  also, the Airbnb was freezing cold, and the room I'm currently in has a heater, so I've been warm for the first time since I got here without having a hot flash.  I spoke with two people this morning who may have employment for me - one at the welfare department who had a decent suggestion and will get back to me after consulting with her supervisor, and another who has 6 hours a week for me at minimum wage helping someone out after their surgery.  it's not much, but it's something.  I also have a zoom meeting this afternoon with some folks from the organization that helped me get here, so hopefully they'll have some further helpful ideas, including where to stay tomorrow, and into the future.

 

 

when I get so down in the dumps like this, I tend to disconnect from the world - wanting to be alone, not talk to anyone, and wallow in the depression.  so I deactivated my Facebook account because most of the 'real' people I knew deleted me on or around October 7th, because how dare Israelis fight back when we're attacked by murderous terrorists, or during the following year and half (3000 years) of my shouting into the void about it with the only result being more disconnections.  it really kills you inside to face so much hatred, and seeing nothing but that hatred reflected back to me by the Jews/Israelis/Zionists I am connected to on social media is almost as bad as the hate we face from the rest of the world.  it's still beautiful, here.  there are still gorgeous things to see and appreciate every day.  there are plenty of positive interactions I have on the street every day, and I'm still So Glad I made the decision to come, even when it's hard.  I'll be ok eventually.  I always am.  and I'll figure out how to be of use here, because that's what I do.  I believe I'm on the right path, in the right place, at the right time.  I miss my son like crazy, and I continue to pray to my 'network' for his divine protection because that's the most important thing in the world to me - that he succeeds in walking his own path, and that I get to take some small part in it.  other than that, I'm here for my people, forever, in whatever ways they'll have me.  may I find that way soon.

💙

Full Blue Moon in Aquarius Community Reading

wow, that's some kind of energy out there this weekend, huh?  I've got a jar of water out charging in the moonlight, and as we're also expecting some wind & rain from the hurricane in the Atlantic, it's gonna be one powerful elixir!  

 

set a jar of water out after sundown, and bring it in before sunrise to make moon water!

 

there was a full moon in Aquarius on July 23, so this lunation is closing that energy out - its all about changing into who we mean to become, which is by no means easy, but the release of pent up emotions will certainly be healing...hopefully of the past so we may move more freely into our futures.  that it's a blue moon only amplifies its power, giving us the courage and creative energy to help new inspirations for the collective take flight...release release release!  'we the collective' have never been more aware of our personal gifts, and the need to share them - take a look back and be proud of how far we've come!  we may find that dialing down any arrogance and judgement helps us to simply recognize our value, and polish ourselves to (near) perfection.  a little "know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em" energy!  notice what ignites your passions, and focus on lighting that fire...or alternatively, what scares you to death, and what helps you manage to keep steady and calm?  do we talk about it/use that motivation?  or do we keep it to ourselves so we can deep-dive in solitude?  who are we when no one's looking?  let's make sure to free ourselves of any old, outdated restrictions we're stuck in and grow into everything the collective needs us - and who we need ourselves - to be.  here's what we got:

image shows three cards from The Tarot of a Moon Garden - 9 of Staffs (reversed)/10 of Pentacles/The Hierophant, with a small feather and a string of beads, on a light cloth background.

9 of Staffs (reversed):  that chip on our shoulder is telling us that we haven't been learning from our past mistakes...it's the over-identification with struggle mentality that has us tending to fail at the finish.  focusing on our triumphs - honoring the challenges we've managed to turn into opportunities - can help shift our mindset from victim to victor.  we're So Close, we HAVE to keep going!  there's nothing to be gained from wasting energy being angry that life isn't fair; use it instead to recognize and correct an indefensible position...like creating our own drama and blaming it on others (we all do it, we just change the story to suit our purposes).  there's still a lot of work to do, so let's get after it!  and maybe ease up on the restrictions/boundaries a bit...we need to learn to compromise.

10 of Pentacles:  a long hard path to get to where everything we put work into will flourish; a permanence and satisfaction made all the sweeter for being shared with family.  our plan for the future - the solid foundation on which we support and care for our legacy.  so much abundance through a balance of emotional and physical work.  deep roots help generational abundance thrive.  can this energy feel stagnant, though?  boring?  does it need a good dose of conflict?  while a conventionally stable life feels safe and expansive, we may need to ask if we're doing what really matters to us.  remember to spend time pursuing our passions while enjoying the fruits of our labors.

The Hierophant:  following the path of knowledge and education through sacred institutions, embracing convention, following the process/rules.  a trusted mentor that helps align us with our core values, a symbol of the sacred, and spiritual awareness.  being ok with asking for what we need.  someone who can and will provide wisdom and guidance, or someone who is set in their ways. don't rock the boat.  taking part in a ceremony or ritual of your own creation.

 

 

if the message here is to 'get out of our own way' and stop creating drama that holds us back from working towards building a solid foundation for our future, then perhaps in this moment we need to learn how to do that through established practices and conventional collective wisdom.  this doesn't appear to be an opportune time to seek out groundbreaking new practices, or cutting-edge solutions - stick with the tried and true for success in this instance.  where are we failing, and why?  in what ways are we stepping on our own toes, and avoiding our deepest, most necessary work for the needs of the collective?  how can we best move forward together in ways that honor and uplift us all?  how much work have we done towards updating the 'collective wisdom' in our time, and can we do more?

I know I have a lot to think about in terms of how best to move forward with bringing my dreams to fruition, and 'following the established rules' is probably a great place to start, in my case.  as always, thank you for coming along, commenting, and sharing - this reading is for anyone who wants/needs it!  as always, I hope there's something in here for you personally, and feel free to contact me for a private reading.  

💙💜💙

resources:

Light Witch Tarot Shop

The Hood Witch

Anima Mundi Herbals

Dr. Michael Lennox

210 42hz Aquarius full moon frequency

Framing Ford's Fiasco

content warning:  description of non-consensual sexual contact and related issues

when we were around 19 years old, a friend and I met two guys at a street fair where we were vending, and made plans to catch up with them later that evening at a local arcade.  at some point that night, while killing a game of Black Knight, I started to feel sick and began to slump over the pinball machine, but I was racking up the high score, and didn't want to give up the game.  eventually, I asked my friend to take over so I could go outside and get some air, yelling at her over my shoulder on my way to the door not to lose my ball, because I'd be Right Back to finish the game myself.  after walking around the parking lot a bit to clear my head, I decided to go sit in my car and relax for a few more minutes before heading back in.  the guy I had been hanging out with suddenly got in next to me, started touching and kissing me, making out with me, and I know I told him I came outside to breathe because I wasn't feeling well, and I'm sure there was a "No" or a "Stop" in there somewhere.  he started to climb on top of me, and managed to lower my seat back to a reclining position (I was in the driver's seat).  he started rubbing himself on me - took his penis out of his pants, and with his full weight on me, thrust himself between my breasts until he came all over my chest, at which point, he jumped out of the car, and was gone.  I remember laying there in my car, thinking "what the hell just happened?"  I don't remember finding something to clean myself off with, but I must have, because I Do remember walking back into the arcade, finding my friend, and telling her that we were leaving - Now.  she was confused, and made some half-assed attempt at arguing, but the guy she was hanging out with wasn't all that interesting, and I was her ride, so off we went.

and that might have been the end of it, however inappropriate it was.  I would have gone home, taken a shower, and moved on with my life without giving the incident too much conscious thought, though obviously, the experience has never left me.  I hadn't been hit, bruised, beaten, threatened, held down, or hurt.  I hadn't tried to scream or fight - mostly I remember being dizzy and confused, and wondering what was happening, what he was doing to my body, wondering why he was doing it.  it was over just as quickly as it had started, and he took off like a shot, leaving me lying there, covered in his mess, not understanding why I let it happen in the first place.  sure, I wasn't feeling well, I was dizzy and nauseous, and having to fend off an overzealous date wasn't something I thought was in the game plan for the evening, but I'm not a 'lay there and let it happen' kind of girl, so...why?

about 5 years or so later, I was living with a boyfriend, and in the cottage next door lived another couple we were friends with.  one afternoon, my neighbor and I were hanging out and she was gushing about this new friend she'd made, telling me how awesome he was, how she had invited him over that evening, and that my boyfriend and I should come over, too, and we'd make a night of it.  Sure, sure, no problem, we'd be there, can't wait to meet him.  so the four of us (the two couples) are sitting in the living room of the cabin when the new guy arrives.  the moment he stepped through the door, my blood turned to ice.  yeah, it was That Guy...I stared him down while our friend made the introductions.  The look of sheer terror on his face when she introduced us turned to shock as I smiled and reached my hand out to him.  "Nice to meet you," I said, as we all settled in for a night of board games, adult refreshments, and camaraderie.  my skin was on fire, or icy cold.  my head was pounding.  I found it hard to follow the conversation, speak, or make eye contact with anyone.  I excused myself, and went back to my own apartment, shut off the lights, and lay in bed with my eyes burning holes in the bedroom wall, fists wrapped tight in the blankets, while my boyfriend, our neighbors, and their new friend, all had a grand old time together.

this asshole now became a part of our group.  he was invited to all the parties.  he came on all the hikes.  he was brought to our special swimming spot (where he forged an inappropriate friendship with another one of our friend's girlfriends, go figure).  he 'was in the neighborhood, so he just dropped by'.  he came to my house, and expected to be let in to hang out with the rest of us.  I think that must have been the point at which I finally said something to my boyfriend.  I remember telling him that I didn't want that prick in my house, and I resented the fact that saying so would make me look like the asshole, because everyone just liked him so much.  I don't remember how my boyfriend reacted, but I do remember words like 'long time ago', and 'different person now' floating around my brain, trying to connect with words like 'it would be weird if we suddenly stopped letting him come around, especially if we're all hanging out'...

here it is more than 25 years later, and I no longer know those neighbors.  the old boyfriend is still around, less a friend of mine than a friend of a friend.  I have no idea what happened to 'the asshole', but I wouldn't be surprised to hear he ran for congress or something, because that's where these fuckers seem to end up.  I don't even remember his name (ok...wait, yeah I do.), but I can still recall the look on his face every time he spoke to me - it was like he was pretending to be sorry for doing something he knew was wrong, but also like he didn't get caught or called out for it, so he was smug about having 'gotten away with it'.  I should have knocked his teeth out, or pushed him down my stairs, or told my girlfriends, or...Something.  I shouldn't have just let him off the hook.  especially after he and that chick at the swimming hole cheated together on her boyfriend - a good friend of mine to this day - and effectively ended their relationship (it's ok, my buddy married someone way better than that bitch).  hell, my so-called boyfriend should have done All those things on my behalf as soon as I told him what happened!  I don't recall whether or not I told anyone else.

while it certainly wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to anyone, if he did it to me, he may well have done it to others.  others who aren't tough-as-nails like me, women who may have been devastated by less...or seriously damaged by more.  how might he treat his wife, if he ever got married?  his daughters, if he has any?  and to be fair, my beef is not specifically with this one person, it's with All the people who use others as if they have some special privilege (there's that word, again) to walk through this world without the consequences of their poor behavior to hinder them in any way.  he was neither the first, nor the last person who treated my body like it belonged to his personal desires rather than to me:  there was the inappropriate babysitter I just learned about recently; there were incidents with my brother's friends who spent the night at our house; there was the 21 year old college basketball player I gave my virginity to when I was 15; the high school footballer who took me into the bathroom at a keg party and made me give him head for what felt like hours; the 'boyfriends' who only ever wanted to have sex and wouldn't hang out with me if I refused; the high school hockey dude who got me drunk at the drive-in, had sex with me, and took my underpants so he could bring them to school and yell down the hallway, "you left these in the backseat of my car the other night!".  there was the random dude at some party where I must have been drugged because I still can't explain how I woke up in a strange bed, my neck black with hickeys.

do you want to know what I was wearing when these events took place?  do you want to know why I chose to give up my virginity to a college dude who was 'home on break' that I hoped never to see again when I was so young?  do you want to know what I was doing at keg parties while I was still in high school?  do you want to know why I went out with guys who were only after what was in my pants?  why I went to the drive-in and got drunk with that loser who stole my undies?  why I was at a party where I didn't know who I was partying with?  who cares?  I was a teenager - a kid.  and yeah, a pretty stupid one, at that.  I hitchhiked around in mini-skirts and three inch heels (and mostly got picked up by little old ladies who were Very concerned about my welfare).  it's called life.  it's called learning.  did I learn how alcohol works in my body, and decide that drinking wasn't really for me?  yes I did.  did I learn the mechanics and politics of sex?  yes I did - and after many years (and several kind and patient lovers), I eventually learned how to enjoy it.  did I learn that dating meat-head jocks was best left to some other chick?  abso-fucking-lutely.  did I learn to party responsibly, and only with people I know and trust?  definitely.  did I learn to recognize a dangerous situation and how to extricate myself from it?  yup.  did I spend years training in the martial arts?  you betcha.

does my working through my issues excuse any one of those boys from treating me like an object to be used for my parts then tossed aside?  No It Does Not.  every one of the above experiences (barring the babysitter) happened when I was a teenager.  less than 20 years old.  by the time I was 21, I took no more shit from anyone, for any reason.  and I'm in no way attempting to diminish my own irresponsibility in these instances, because I was most certainly irresponsible, but that doesn't in Any Way mean that a series of belligerent, entitled, white boys under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol had the right to use me like a sexual doormat.  the weird thing is, given all I've written above, I am also guilty of not having believed one of my college roommates when she claimed she was raped.  in the room next to ours...by one of the nicest, and most gentle human beings I have ever met.  to this day, I believe she slept with my friend of her own free will, regretted it, and made up the rape story to pre-empt and redirect her boyfriend's anger from focusing on her, to the guy who supposedly violated her.  I don't think he bought her story, either.  my friend, on the other hand, locked himself in his room, stopped coming to meals and going to classes, lost a ton of weight, got sick, and eventually moved to another dorm.  you'd think if the allegations against him were true, the school would have kicked him out rather than simply move him across the quad...

in retrospect, the other three of us roommates were kind of shitty to have looked at her askance, and thrown all the rote, misogynistic questions at her, making her go over it and over it for us so we could pick her apart, and still not believe her.  the thing was (still is, I guess), I knew a girl who made up a rape story to cover a lie she told her boyfriend.  I also knew a girl who made up a pregnancy story as a way to exact 'revenge money' from her ex, ostensibly for an abortion, with which she bought herself a pair of rather stylish and expensive boots.  so learning that there were women with the same poor judgement skills as the idiots I had the misfortune to cut my sexual teeth on definitely contributed to my general skepticism, but knowing a person's character gives you a really good idea about who a person is, and how they may behave.  in the case of my college roommate and my buddy, our neighbor, the differences in their characters told the story:  she was a social climbing, party-girl who came to college to find herself an athletic husband, and a career that offered a flattering uniform; he was a shy, sensitive soul, an art major with a low, quiet voice, and a bit of a dark edge due to a certain depth of knowledge.  who knows what happened?  maybe, for all I know, he did it, and they gave my roommate that line about how it wasn't fair to ruin a young man's life, blah blah blah, and they moved him away from us, but nowhere she didn't have to still see him most days.

we have to be sure about these things.  for instance, I can get behind the death penalty, but only in cases where the evidence proves beyond the shadow of any doubt, and all that.  there are few upstanding and righteous individuals - most of whom are not students of the law - I would trust to judge delicate issues, such as the one I've mentioned above, and others of a similar, or even darker nature, because of their understanding of 'truth & justice'.  what I've seen recently, in relation to current events, is one particular person looking to be appointed to the national committee we have in this country that oversees that sort of thing, but he's kind of just like that arcade-parking-lot-molester-type dude, and doesn't belong in that position.  was it a long time ago?  yes.  could he be a different person now?  yes.  are his buddies asking me to be silent in my own house so they can have their little boys club that benefits them, and harms pretty much everyone else?  YES.  am I going to?  NO.  why?

because they're going down in flames, these assholes, and they know it.  and they're grasping at every last straw of power they can get their mitts on before they go.  and that means it's going to get a bit worse before it gets better.  and that means a few more bodies on the fire before we manage to see this thing through.  but we will see it through, we're closer than we've ever been.  we have to build on the work that's been done before us, and smash all this nonsense that been going on around us with the words we've been holding in for too long.  and (white) guys, I get it...so many of you who are good and decent people are getting a raw deal because of these assholes, but the truth is, you all have had the benefit of the doubt for way too long, now, and it's time to share the sandbox.  that is all.  and stop touching women in ways you wouldn't touch other men.  or your mother.  maybe this is a good place to talk about sex work, even, who knows?  or a jumping-off point for that discussion, anyway.  it's all related.

we shouldn't even need to be having this discussion.  from what I saw on national television, the general consensus is that a certain party does not appear to be a model of impartiality, or an arbiter of justice, and we can do so much better.

The Poor Gourmet

if there's one thing I totally don't have down, it's food.  I do my best in the kitchen, and have made some lovely things from time to time, but that is Not the norm, and I make up for my lack of food planning and preparing skills by being charming in other ways.  if you read along, you may have caught my recent posts about doing the Whole30 challenge, for what that was worth, and it was worth enough for me to start paying much closer attention to what I eat, and how it affects me.  also if you've been reading along, you may have noticed that I recently spent two weeks in Israel, where I ate an array of tasty foods in a number of venues!  for starters, knowing I was going away, I just served up whatever needed using up in the fridge before we left, so we ate a bunch of sandwiches from the deli, and pizza.  I had a burger before I left my house, knowing I wouldn't get a 'good American cheeseburger' overseas, then ended up getting just one more the next day at my mom's, because she had the same plan!

there's nothing good to say about Newark or the airline (United) at all, in terms of food (and other matters), so I'm just going to skip ahead to the first real Israeli meal we had, which was the breakfast buffet at the Artplus in Tel Aviv.  it was small, but everything I would expect from an Israeli buffet:  scrambled eggs, shakshuka, hard boils, greens, hummus, tchina, pastry, cereal, juices, salads, bread, coffee, tea.  everything was delicious but my hard boiled egg - the yolk was too green for me, and it affected the taste of the white.  we hit the road pretty quickly, only stopping for some ice cream and drinks for a snack/lunch before continuing on to the kibbutz we would be staying at for the next few days, where we were met with Israeli salad, and challah rolls.

our friends on the kibbutz had the best eggs!  fresh and delicious, with bright yellow yolks and creamy whites.  they were perfect hard boiled, scrambled, or as a thin, Israeli omelette.  there were plates of Israeli salad at every meal (tomato, cucumber, lettuce), cheeses, leben with oil, home-made challah rolls, olives, mango, watermelon...there was schnitzel - chicken pounded thin, breaded and fried to a golden crisp.  there were figs from the trees.  there was lunch out at the nearest roadside diner, an Arab place where we all had kebob, either beef or chicken, as well as the standard salad/hummus/tchina/pita spread (yay!  finally!), including Matbucha (the teen's first new love on this trip), pickles, olives, and some sort of coconut flan for dessert with the sweetest pink syrup I have ever tasted (along with the standard baklava, and other delights).

Netanya...what to say about Netanya?  we had a rough time there, and it wasn't the experience I wanted it to be.  we had dinner of a sort, eventually...the last pizza from under the heat lamps, hummus and pita from grocery store packages, a bottle of inexpensive red wine, and some ice pops.  breakfast wasn't much better, being pastry from the local gas station, in which I didn't take part.  lunch, when we finally got to it, was Caesar salad, and some hummus/pita/tchina.  then we headed down to Jerusalem where we checked in for a few days, and ate mainly at the hotel.

the hotel buffets were brilliant - like the one I described of the Artplus earlier, but much bigger.  the one at the Crowne Plaza was fantastic, with a coffee bar, breakfast bars, meat and veggie options in a wide variety, a salad bar, cheese bar, bread bar, drink options, and desserts aplenty!  I was feeling pretty good with my food choices so far, and being on vacation, I did choose to go a little wild, but the vast amounts of items on display made me take a step back, and make even more conscious choices than I had already been.  also, having the opportunity to see what my mom and son were choosing to eat gave me the ability to compare and contrast the fuel we were putting into our bodies, and how we performed throughout the day, energetically.

I basically stuck to protein and greens, with a bit of cheese and bread at each meal.  when things fell apart, and we turned to store-bought pizza, packaged chips and snacks, never mind the alcohol, moods and relations suffered.  a big bowl of greens always helps to get back on track (even those drowning sadly in dressing), and had me circling the salad bar at every meal.  on the street it was felafel, lemonade, baglach with za'atar, seltzer, chips (fries), schwarma, and Caesar salad.  we had a sort-of fancy meal at the Israel Museum...it had been a busy day, and though we didn't do much, the little we did involved a great deal of effort, and left us tired, so when we got to the museum, we got my mom a wheel chair, and pulled her up to a table in the fancier of the two cafes there were to choose between.  she ordered a glass of the house wine, and we took our time over a well-prepared meal before heading out to explore the grounds and exhibits.

out to dinner on the mall with a friend was more Caesar salad and cups of ice cream, followed by a casual Israeli breakfast prepared by the same friend, and we were off to Masada in the desert, where we had more felafel and schwarma!  after a dip in the Dead Sea, it was pizza for dinner, and another amazing hotel buffet breakfast to sustain us through a morning on the beach, and the ride back to Jerusalem where we lunched at the Elvis American Diner on our way to Tel Aviv.  as per the norm, the hotel in Tel Aviv had a life-sustaining breakfast buffet, but for two nights, we ordered in tacos, and had the one schwarma lunch that we walked to and from, dragging my poor mom along because she needed to eat, too.

then we had the last leg of our trip at another fancy hotel, with breakfast buffets, and room service, because we were just too done in to get dressed to a level to feel presentable enough for the restaurant after a few days on the beach.  then up and out - from breakfast buffet, to the airport, with airline food generally a non-mentionable, we found ourselves back in the States, having pizza delivered for dinner, and diner breakfasts of eggs, bacon, toast, home fries, and one chicken Caesar salad for a certain growing teenager.  back home to frozen pizza.  grocery run, and a protein salad, then more pizza, ice cream, and nachos.  then that sick feeling I get when I've overdone it, but much milder.  manageable.  I put on about 6 pounds while I was eating hummus and pita like a fetishist, but there's no way in hell I wasn't going to enjoy that food while I was in the Middle-East!

when I got home, I made a batch of mayo to mix with the batch of ketchup I made so I could have the Russian dressing I grew up with on my protein salad yesterday (was it yesterday?  I'm still not sure what day it is) - mayo/ketchup/red wine vinegar.  I bought some fresh greens (basil, parsley) for the chicken salad I thought I'd make (there was a pouch of schwarma-flavored 'instant marinade' we were fooled into buying at the store), so maybe there could be pesto?  and I want to make at least one 'decent meal' this week, by which I mean 'a proper dinner'.  if I can only stay awake long enough to cook it...

I must remember to eat.  I must remember to cook.

I did make the chicken schwarma, which was, as we knew it would be, a joke.  the food alone is reason enough to move to Israel...but that's another subject for a post about how I want to 'live differently', that I'm turning 50, and it's time for something new.  I need to make some moves.  why not a different language in the old country?  it's not like I can't come back - or even go somewhere else from there!

egg for breakfast, schwarma chicken salad for lunch, pita/oil/za'atar, too.  can we talk about the pita?  the pita we buy in the bakery section at the local store?  it's horrible, no?  I don't even know what to say...and the schwarma, with that chemical-spice-taste that's not 'spice' per se, but chemical burn in a pouch.  it's not even a flavor, it's just...burn.

and ice cream, and more ice cream.  with whipped cream, as well (of course).  and chicken parm from the pizza place (we miss the schnitzel).  but then there was more protein salad, and apples and honey for the holiday.  and chocolate.  ugh...

the fact that's it's chilly and grey out is kind of bullshit, too, actually...after sunny summer beach weather, I'm about done with the cold and rainy, even though it's a relief to the NYers, because they've had hazy, hot, and humid misery while we were enjoying the gorgeous Mediterranean.  also, I bought summery salad foods at the store, and now I want chili, which I don't have the ingredients for!  GAHH!!!

Crazy Train

well, I went off the rails again, and now I've lost the momentum I managed to build up (what momentum?  you may ask yourself...) by posting once a week, and following a thread that connected each post to the next.  it's kind of pathetic that 2 1/2 days without power and a brief illness could push me so far off kilter.  on the other hand, I randomly decided to attempt to rearrange the furniture, which is Way out of the ordinary for me, because I tend to only see one way for the furniture to go, and that's where I put it, and that's where it stays until I move again.  now, it is well known that I move pretty often, so maybe it has something to do with my not living anywhere long enough to see other possibilities, and now that I've lived in this house for coming on 4 years, I had an idea, so I went with it.  while it's not the greatest design idea, it could still work given a few tweaks, and the real positive result of the action is that it helped move some energy in such a way that I was able to get a lot of work done this weekend.  I still haven't made it to the grocery store, but we'll be going today (soon), and I haven't made it to the bank to make some deposits so I can pay my bills.

ugh...it's several days later, again, and now I just want to scrap this crappy post altogether, and skip it for this week because it's stupid and fruitless.  I mean, I was posting on Mondays, then I didn't finish a few posts on Monday, so I posted on Tuesdays, then last week I posted on Friday, and here it is Thursday already with nothing posted this week so far.  again, I don't have much to say, other than I'm a hot mess, as usual.  the furniture rearrange hasn't quite worked out effectively, because the (antique Chinese lacquer with cloisonne top) stool I gave myself to sit on while working at the vintage chess table (I tried using it as a desk) is too hard and hurt my butt.  so I'm back to my computer desk where there isn't enough room for my notebook full of lists, or the paperwork I need to be paying attention to, but there is a comfy office chair.  I've had a decent amount of work this week, so while that's something worth doing, it hasn't paid all that well, which is disappointing.

so what to say?  why say anything?  because it's my way of organizing myself?  because it gives me a record to look back on and determine how far I've come?  to see what I've accomplished and failed at?  to force myself to sit here and see the task through because it's what I've decided I need to do?  just for me - to be clear, I like when people read and respond, but they hardly ever respond, though I can see how many read.  blogger is kind enough to not only tell me how many people are reading my blog, but from what towns in what countries, too, so I have a decent idea of who my local stalkers are, and who's spreading the gossip.  it's fine - I put it out there, and pretty soon, I'm going to post a 'wish list' and/or a tip jar, so if you're using my words to jazz up your own life, or write your own stories (or simply enjoy this blog), feel free to compensate me by sharing your monetary success earned at my expense.  it's truly the least you can do.  why do I think people might be plagiarizing my work?  because it's happened before.  there was a website where I used to share my photography until I found out they were just using my images for their own purposes.  so - I put myself 'out there', hoping for recognition of my skills and talents (and possibly hearing from kindred spirits), while running the risk of having my work stolen, and used by more nefarious characters than myself for their own intents and purposes.  c'est la vie, non?

sigh...I really haven't got a thing to say this week, but I keep trying.  what's more interesting?  talking about my personal, ongoing battle with social media?  the condition of my house, and my dance to keep up with my ideal of what it should be?  my personal relationships in terms of my mom/family, the teen, my handful of friends, my acquaintances?  my relationship to food/exercise/health?  I often want to share pictures of what my life looks like, but I have no device with which to do so - I mean, I have an actual camera, but shooting film results in the expensive process of having it developed, so I don't really go there.  I would love to get back into the darkroom and refresh my skills with an art I used to love, but that too costs in terms of darkroom fees and such.  I can sometimes borrow the kid's hand-me-down iPhone, but he then has to email me each shot individually, which isn't awful, but does get tedious.  maybe one of these days, I'll have enough steady cash flow to consider joining the modern age in terms of handheld devices...one never knows.  I don't even have a stereo, and that somehow seems more important, though I hear people just listen to music on those all-encompassing devices, nowadays.  the fact that they're 'all-encompassing' seems intrinsically problematic to me, which is the main reason (aside from financial inability) I don't have one.

I really should be doing something much more worthwhile with my time right now, like filling out that paperwork, transcribing for money, proofreading for money, washing my hair, doing some dishes, sorting some of the clutter that's been messing up my flow for most of a year, stretching/exercising/going for a walk, or doing something better with the living room furniture.  oh, and then there are the many creative projects I have sitting on a shelf that may never see a completion date unless I skip back a few weeks in this blog and remind myself what I wrote about that particular personal problem.  I'm considering eating some food, as well, because that's a thing that should happen on the regular, right?  and now that the weather has changed, my left foot has begun swelling up the way it does in the summer lately, which reminds me that the doctor's office called to tell me that it's time for me to come in so they can tell me I'm fat again, and that every complaint I may have stems exclusively from that, which is a blog post in and of itself.  oh well.  enough procrastinating the other stuff by doing this, which is a kind of procrastination itself when it's just a rambling post like it's been the past two weeks with no agenda, no direction, and no artistic flair.  send me all your money, and have a good week - I'll do my best to be back on Monday with something worth posting.  thanks for coming along for the decidedly bumpy ride!

next week:  fat shaming and my personal journey with weight

Weekly Wordle 344

 

silky birth saturate soul sharp dish truth shadows broken rain veils music

                                        the rain

veils

          shadowed truths

that saturate

                       my soul

like sharp

music

of the 

                              dish

                broken

                  as it

slides

                                   silky

like birth

                        across the floor

shattering

                                my image

of deep

                grey

                               calm

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

Stacks, Pizza & Beer, Random mythological rundowns, and posturing.

     About a year ago, sitting under some of the oldest trees in town (on the library lawn), their towering crowns carried my sorrowful soul up to the sky.  I wondered what that small piece of land would look like when the buildings had crumbled and fallen, when the trees were back in charge, when the forest reclaimed the space from us.  Would it feel holy to what came to tread there after?  The soil, worn so smooth, barely there for the deep roots I imagined, spreading out beneath the sugar maples; countless footsteps having drummed out the ancestors' rhythms, passages in time.  The land there feels sacred to me, in contrast to the land of the apartment complex I had just moved from, which I feel blessed to no longer live on - the fresh wound of the Earth reaching up and choking us all with its newness, like a ragged scar picked at, and not allowed to heal.  With the melancholy of being between homes, it was from the library lawn that I pried two stones up out of the mossy soil, working my magic through the trees rooted so deep to the land in which I was trying to belong - how long had those two stones lay beneath that tree?  Did I feel guilty?  I filled the holes with different rocks before I carried the old stones away, one for me, two stacked for the boy (leaving room for him to grow).  It put me in mind of how 'stacks' make me feel safe, be they of the library, or of stone.
     For some reason, it made me think "I'll be a traditional Romni for Halloween" to let them see what it really looks like, when it's pulled off by one of our own, and to give them a taste of what the stereotyping looks and feels like.  The flowered skirt, big earrings, diklo and braids, put on my bangles and beads, thick black eyeliner, and show them what it means - I'd offer to read fortunes, even bring my crystal ball...say things like "you know, Romani women have no closer connection to the divine than those fortune-tellers from other cultures, right?"  Or "I predict you'll say something bigoted and insulting in the next five minutes."  Do it right there on the library lawn, attract a crowd, and hit them with some truth.  Pop said that blood had to pool somewhere...by resisting the stereotype, am I causing myself more harm than good?  Muffling the Me that wants to sing and dance, get lost in duende?  I get so tired of having to prove that I'm something other than what they all think we are, because while some of us are doctors, lawyers, educators, business people, many of our talents truly do manifest in song, dance, fortune- and story-telling, and we shouldn't have to be ashamed to express that - to put it in my pipe and smoke it, so to speak.  I like to say I come from the 'wrong' kind of Roma, just to point out that their are the 'right' kind, as well.
     So that side of my family were thieves and scammers, that doesn't define us all.  So what if I can pick a lock and rob you blind while you're out getting groceries?  So what if my grandfather's brother did those awful things to my cousin...well, no, that's Never ok...but it has nothing to do with our ethnicity.  There are good and bad of all types of people, and we are no exception.  Pops himself was the best kind of man, in spite of (or because of) his horrible upbringing.  I met that nice lady who loves our culture because it was Us who forged her family's papers and got them out of Eastern Europe before all that awful history went down. Good for us.  I haven't forged anything since I didn't want those progress reports in Junior High to reach my parents, but if something Truly Awful goes down in this country, and it would help save a life?  You can bet I'd do it again.  Honestly, there are so many instances where 'the better angels of my nature' remind me that I am a law-abiding citizen, and to perform a task it crosses my mind to contemplate would not only constitute a crime, but would jeopardize my standing in my community as an upright and trustworthy individual, and undo the good work I put in upholding that notion.  Is there a way to use my less-than-honest powers for good?  I hope to find out one day.
     The boy and I didn't dress up for what I like to call Samhain that year - last year - as that was the night of our transition from 'crappy apartment on scarred land' to 'acquaintance's small house in a more rural area, much more to our liking', where we stayed for a month.  Then we were homeless for another month before finding our current abode, which is working out just fine.  Sometime after moving in, I wrote "At this moment, everything is alright.  Is that what I need to come to the page, now?  Is it that putting myself out there is more dangerous than it used to be?  Are the things I type and choose to share dangerous?  Define 'dangerous'...what am I afraid of?  That's not the point.  The point was that everything is all right.  The rent is paid, the bills are paid, there is food.  There is clothing, even though it is all in a gigantic laundry pile that I dread having to take the day out of my life to haul down to the laundromat, spend the 2 hours washing and semi-drying, then hanging it all around the house for two days until it dries completely, folding it, and putting it away.  At least the boy is old enough to help, now, and pretty much handles his own.  What a nothing to complain about.  So, on the base level, things are good.  I am in a comfortable place.  Today.  What's next on Maslow's Pyramid?"
     The next draft was apparently rather similar:

It's not that I can't write, it's that I don't.  I could sit down in front of this machine and kick out a jam at any time, it's that I don't make the time to do it.  To put it on the calendar, to compartmentalize the creativity...  We got pretty creative yesterday, with all the art supplies out.  I'm glad - I've been wanting to shift that energy around for a long time, but it took 11 months (already?) to finally settle in enough to get with the proper organizing for this space.  There's still lots of work to do, but the process is 87% complete, at this point, so maybe there isn't 'lots' to do, but more at the fine tuning of making it all pretty, now.

     So, I 'kicked out a jam' and wrote:

There was a certain nostalgia in the air last night...it was a warm, coastal kind of evening, Floridian to me.  In November!  And the radio was just ON, which isn't the norm.  Made me want to run away with my own circus.  The night where you call that old friend not to say anything, but to just have the line open between you, but because there is such a thing as propriety, you try and fill the space with words.  Why can't we be quiet together?

     Once again, I don't know quite what I'm going for, here, I'm just throwing all my thoughts and feeling out into the ether, working through my own issues, and catching up with a bunch of blog drafts that I never finished, attempting to weave the disparate ends of my life together as a means.  Do I add a tip jar to the blog as an attempt to pull in more scratch?  Do I 'monetize' it, and clutter it all up with ads?  Would that really generate any income?  Do enough people enjoy what I slap down 'on the page' for it to make a difference?  Could I figure out how to make it so?  I've never done anything because it made others happy - I've lived my life singularly for my own enjoyment and personal, spiritual fulfillment...until I had a kid, then I added his relative joy to my equation, because, really, that's what parenting is about, if you do it with any level of competence.  He's like my own personal Jesus (with apologies to Depeche Mode and Jesus freaks) - taking into account how I was homeless while I was pregnant, and all the doors of the 'inns' I knocked on were full, and wouldn't let me in.  Since his birth, he has saved me, time and time again.
     During my healthy yet impoverished pregnancy, I developed the theory that the Jesus mythology was supposed to make Marys of us all - suffering in holy silence while the war mongers murdered our sons by the thousands in their bloody, useless battles against themselves.  Well, I wasn't going to buy into it.  No one was/is going to hang My son on any cross for such nonsense.  We are warriors for peace and harmony, love and community.  Highly vibratory individuals who choose coming together in understanding as a way to elevate us All.  Are you with me?  Feminism is (finally) back on the rise, and the energies are balancing.  'God', in my experience, is gender-less.  An all-encompassing energy that swirls around us, which can be moved with concentrated will towards a particular goal.  There are Goddesses walking around in my Earthly domain, and I have seen them in their bodies of flesh - you have too, if you are open to their energy, women who stop you in your tracks the way they carry themselves, the power of their being radiating out from them in a powerful enough miasma to knock you off your feet with a longing to curl up in their laps, and return to that place where we all felt completely and securely nourished, protected, and loved.  And where are my Gods?  Hunter S. Thompson is dead, and he was the closest anyone came to that title role for me, other than my dad.  I can only hope they are being raised by women like me, and the aforementioned Goddesses.
     We need these children of balance in order for things to get better for us in a whole, global way.  As a well-educated poor person in the Northeastern United States, I can tell you how tiring it gets to sit in a roomful of moms who have the privilege to talk about the tens of thousands of dollars they have to spend on their next car while my old clunker is sitting out in the lot with a smashed windshield and the front end about to fall out from under it.  Or how locally grown organic food is the better choice all around, when I'm living on low-grade pasta, canned food, and half-rotten veggies (if I'm lucky) from the food pantry.  These are lovely people, and I like them all.  Neither am I judging by saying these things, I'm merely putting the situation in context, to show the disparity between our situations, and how it feels to sit among them and not be one of them, even though we are similarly engaged in bucking 'the system'. So they married well, or came from money, or worked hard, saved their pennies, and invested wisely.  So some of them had a better support system, or a more advanced skill-set.  It just strikes me that I end up in these situations where I am rubbing elbows with folks who are obviously so far out of my league, and that I'm trying to give my kid the same advantages as theirs.  Sometimes it works, sometimes not.  No matter how much of an outsider I am - or maybe because of it - I nevertheless insist that the world's problems will be solved by taking a wider viewpoint that includes All members of a community/society, because the next great thinker may just be some kid who had to figure out how to rig some duct-tape fix to keep his single mom's fridge running, or his shoes from giving up the ghost, or some other small crisis that ends up having larger, global significance.  Can you feel me on this?
     That's enough random rambling for now, and I have two other pieces I was going to work on to share, as well as another piece I wrote for a different venue.  Let me know in the comments which you would like to see first:  a continuation of the comical werewolf story I was riffing on for The Sunday Whirl, or a more personal essay concerning my experience with child protective services?  Thanks for following along, and I hope you enjoyed the ride.  Also, feel free to share your thoughts on either monetizing or adding a tip jar to this blog, or both.  Which would you prefer?  I wouldn't prefer either, personally, but a girl's gotta make a living if she wants to fix her car so she can get her kid to all those fancy classes that will give him a chance to compete with those who have all the advantages with which he wasn't lucky enough to be born.  Selah ~

Sunday Whirl Monday

 

quilts grain heart crows escaping open collapse clay splintered crack crawled bones

open heart
        splintered heart
escaping into the open

cracked open
        splintered open
my heart crawls open

my heart collapses
        collapses open
cracked open and splintered like bones

my bones escaping
        escaping my heart
cracked open and splintered like grain

grain cracking crows
       splintered by crows
escaping through my open heart

the clay quilted
         across my heart
splintered by crows

the bones quilted
        crawling across my open heart
splintered like clay

escaping the quilts that collapse my bones
        in the splintered clay where
the crows crack grain

open like my heart
        collapsing open like my splintered heart
crawling across my bones

this one felt like a chant to me, with a rhythm of its own.  not sure if I caught it, but the repetition at least hints at the solemnity and power of the image these words laid out in my mind.  do join in the fun at:

annual moving entry...

Friday:

changed the name of my etsy shop (took longer than I would have thought), designed and posted a new banner (and have this great new business card idea),

                                                                                  checked out a few avenues to sell photos on the internet and began that process, found this great eco-dish-scrubby online, designed a flyer inviting people to my first sacred photo session, outlined the 8-week workshop, compiled an equipment list, began to catalog the prints I'm going to offer for sale, and started packing my house to move.  finally got the cat fixed,

opened a new bank account because my bank of 15 years left town, started the process of getting my direct deposit switched over, shipped an Etsy order for my kid's chapbook (^_^),

                                                                                     and kept my household running smoothly.

Saturday:

packed boxes, took the kid to play practice, visited with a friend, did laundry, picked the kid up and went to the 1st - 3rd grade's art opening at a local gallery with his buddies from the play, then went back to one of their houses to hang out and visit.

Sunday:

packed boxes.  planned food/clothing/bathing needs for the next few days so the transition is as smooth as possible.  39 hours 'til the lease-signing, just want to be there already.  sure, who wouldn't want to avoid the heavy lifting, sweaty, grunting, knocking about part, but my constant moving is probably the only real exercise I get.  my annual cardio and weight-training regime - moving all my furniture and ephemera from one place to another.  there's so much to do over the next couple of days, and I'll probably have to be dis-connected during at least some portion of it.  how will I survive?!  well, see you all in the new place, I guess ~

♥

The Sunday Whirl #88

hurl spasm rare enigma insistent rapid spacious clench through burst seemed rustle

Solstice 2012

how long have I known about the significance of the date 12-21-12?  I don't know - but I remember thinking that my kid would be around 8 years old by then.  I also remember being 8 and thinking about how old I would be on that date.  I remember thinking about the number 8, and learning that the Native Americans had some cycle of 8's that I couldn't explain to you now, any more than I could explain why 12-21-12 is significant, but that's just the way it to goes.  here's the way it went for me:  

in the months approaching the Solstice, I felt really restless in my body.  I generally get jumpy in the fall, and I've lived here/in this town/in this apartment for awhile now, so...it was tear my hair out weather to begin with, and then all the crazyness of the Earth in her cyclical death throes, in more ways than one, creating rustles and ripples through my own vibrations...crazy dreams, crazy waking life, crazy experiences, mind-blowing weirdness, incredulous non-belief.  the searching for reason, the knowing I'm in a world beyond all that, on my own.  inside all of that, I know there is 'something special' approaching - that there are people in mediataion all over the world, that my Rainbow Family is 'Om-ing it up' in Palenque, and there are random solitary practitioners of whatsis and allthat out there who all have been tuned in and turned on, and I've been riding their high.  it's been making me really tired, and really hungry.  my body seemed like it couldn't get enough protein and sugar.  it feels like I'm trying to keep myself here on this plane for fear of going flying off to who knows where without a map to get back, and I needed to stay as grounded as possible in light of this latest Ascension, if you will...

some seriously fucked up shit happened in America last week, as it did all over the world, and I've been ignoring it so I can focus on the astrological/spiritual/magical aspects of what's going on Universally just now, and I'll come back to all the other stuff once I feel like I've fully integrated myself into a certain solidity, as I still feel plenty woggy from the 'trip'.  the need to eat was a bit overwhelming, as I'm used to fasting during a big spitirual journey, but hey, I went with it.  I get it though - I've been so spacey, had I not eaten so much, I might well have passed out a few times...I've felt like half my being was sitting in meditation in the Old Place I used to get to when I really got down with all that, and my waking life, but that the gateway by where I used to sit was having an unheard of influx of traffic...it's been quite hectic.

naturally, given the sheer volume of 'presences' in the vicinity of my previously quiet gateway, I thought I'd go somewhere a bit more secluded, to raise my vibration a bit.  I cast a circle in a cleared space, and enlisted the help of some supernatural travel aides, so I was not surprised by how quickly it took for the air to spasm around me as I connected out with the All-Oneness, the rare enigma of time grown spacious, even as one becomes more rapid and insistent within it.  fists clenching, ready to hurl myself bursting through the doorway to the Next, the gateway to the arch that leads to the corridor, on out to the pathway - the whatever is coming, the dancing towards rainbows, the good energy, the sunshiny happy goodness...but I didn't get there.

well, I got there, but I also got slammed back to Earth with a bad case of the whiskey and cigarettes.  not literally, I don't smoke anymore (and I don't drink whiskey), but I had that "drinkin' Chivas Regal in a $4 room" kinda blues, electro-hued, and relentless.  desperate and ugly...like I've always had after a good party, but brighter, more positively manic, and juicy, playful even.  I could hear it giggling, but in a smokey alto, with the jingle of silver in it.  but I'm sore in every muscle, like from a high fall, and the Universe is running rough hands over oil across my skin, and teasing me with imaginary dance partners while I burn for them, and wonder when I'll be ready for another lover...in the meantime, I still feel like I'm coming down, slowly, and readjusting to the gravity of 'this' world.  I feel pinned to my bed, but unable to lie in it.

I'm hoping the ride comes to a stop before I puke, I don't have the stomach for these sorts of things anymore.  glad we made it to the light half of the year, though, the promise of 'outside' can lift many a weary spirit this season, or maybe that's just me - I tend to hide indoors once the sun begins setting at 4pm and earlier.  I'm still in my hibernation period, and as I'm human, I never fully get to realize my need for a seasonal withdrawal, and I should probably pay more attention to that in the future.  in fact, I'm going to bed right now, I'm exhausted...I feel like I've traveled light years since last week, and my body has rocket-lag or something.  all those g's sure do feel like a kick to the head when you come down, and there'll be so much work to do when I wake up ~